FYI - the Indian food mentioned in this chapter came from The Sudra which is an Indian restaurant in Portland. I'm not from Portland so if there was a better option and I didn't go to it, I apologize.

Also, I'm sorry if Monroe and/or Rosalee seem OOC in this chapter.. I seem to have lost their voices in my head :/

All mistakes are, admittedly, mine. Sorry. Hope You Enjoy!


Nick let out a heavy sigh as Juliette closed the door. He had been grateful for her coming by but there was also a tension in the air. There had once been a time when they hadn't had to worry about how to act around one another. Now he was very unsure and he didn't like it.

Putting his back to the door, Nick crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the empty picture frame. He knew exactly which picture it had once held and he knew precisely who took it. It had been hard not to warn Juliette, not to tell her the full extent of what was going on, not only in Portland but in his life as well, but he'd soon remembered the way she had reacted when he'd confessed and suddenly he no longer saw the point. She was just as likely to believe him now as she had been then.

As he looked around at the other pictures, wanting to make sure that nothing else had been taken, he heaved a heavy sigh. A part of him believed that life wasn't supposed to be this complicated. But his was and has been ever since he could remember. Granted, it had only started when his parents had "died", but even so, it felt like it hadn't ever stopped since. In reality he knew that it had only really been this past year that things had begun to get truly difficult but even that short amount of time was beginning to weigh on him a little. Still, Nick was a soldier in the form of a cop and he pushed on. That was what he did while one day hoping that things would lighten up just a little and give him some peace. Then again, he was a grimm so who knew if he would ever get a day off again.

And with that cheery thought, Nick went into the kitchen to scrounge up something for dinner. The sun had begun to slowly fade not long ago and it was now almost fully dark in his house. He stopped to add some light here and there as he moved through the rooms but otherwise he ignored everything else. The kitchen's lights were bright and he actually had to blink against them for a moment and let his eyes adjust before he could do much. He hadn't realized how used to the dark he had gotten.

It was then that he noticed how not hungry he was. He felt like he should eat but there honestly wasn't anything that even sounded remotely appetizing to him. With a quick, semi-painful, pivot Nick exited his kitchen and went to the living room where he collapsed on the couch and proceeded to simply stare at the walls and things around him.

For the most part, the house had been decorated to Juliette's taste. Nick had gone with it simply because he hadn't cared what the place looked like as long as it was still their home. With her gone, however, he was starting to put some thought into it. And he was coming up blank. The furniture was mis-matched but it was his and that familiarity was nice to come home to now that he had only Kylie waiting for him. The knick-knacks were mostly gone. Juliette had been the collector of those and she had taken them with her when she'd left. There was, of course, the odd homemade quilt here and there, laid out on the back of an armchair, the couch, or in a basket which Nick knew wasn't his, and what picture frames there were were filled with pictures that he didn't want to see - him and Juliette.

Deciding to something about that last part, Nick got up and began emptying the frames. It made sense that Juliette had left them but as he didn't want them either, it was time to get rid of them. Emptying all but one, which had a picture of him and Hank at some baseball game, Nick took the polaroids to the kitchen and dumped them in the trash. He knew that some would have torn them up or burned them or something the like but to him, throwing them away was equal to either one of those and so he stuck with that.

I really should get some new pictures taken, he thought as he walked back into the living room and all the emptiness caught his eye. But then, he recollected, if I had, Sergio would be going after Monroe or Rosalee instead of Juliette. Not that going after Juliette was preferable, Sergio breaking into his house to pick his next target just hadn't been something that he had prepared for.

And now, he probably should.

Nick once again sat down after he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had just unlocked it when it rang. For a moment he simply stared in surprise as Monroe's name and number and then he answered it. "Hey Monroe, what's up?"

"Why does something have to be up in order for me to call you?" Nick remained silent, choosing to let that speak for him rather than words. Monroe sighed, "Yeah, you're right. Listen, Rosalee and I need to talk to you. Do you mind if we stop by in about an hour?"

"Sure, but I can just meet you at the shop if that helps," Nick suggested as confusion wrinkled his brows. Why had his friends taken to wanting to come over to his place all the time? He was perfectly capable of driving over to them.

"That's okay," Monroe declined and Nick could just imagine the wave of his hand or the shrug of his shoulders that he probably gave to go along with the dismissive tone. "We could use some time out of the shop."

"Okay, uh, do you want me to do take care of the food?" At least, Nick assumed they'd be eating while they talked.

"As long as "taking care of" means that you're not cooking, yeah."

"I can cook, Monroe."

As he spoke, Nick got off the couch and proceeded to gather his stuff. His coat came first, which was a bit awkward since he had the phone to his ear but after alternating ears, he managed. Then his keys. Nick actually had to stop himself from adding his gun and badge as it had just became so much of a habit to put them on whenever he walked out the door. This time he was simply going to be going to pick up some food. He rather doubted that he would need a weapon and shield.

Then again, there was a crazed grimm in town, hellbent on hunting down his friends ad acquaintances so maybe bringing his gun along wasn't such a bad idea.

Decision made, Nick attached gun and holster to his jeans and then made sure to lock the front door before exiting the back.

"No, dude, you only think you can cook," Monroe argued.

"You're such a snob," Nick returned as he got into his truck and turned the engine on. He sat there, letting it idle until he was finished with his call. Backing out of the driveway could be tricky at best some times and it only got worse in the dark. It was best not to try it while he was on the phone.

"I prefer to think of it as a connoisseur. That and I actually have tastebuds that haven't been killed by the poor excuse for coffee that you drink, which I'm assuming can be your only excuse for thinking that you can cook."

"Like I said, a snob."

"You're hopeless," Monroe said sounding wistful, as though he'd held out hope of being able to convert Nick. He'd already done so with his fancy microbrews, what more did the guy want?!

"And on that note, I gotta go. I'll see you guys when you get here."

"Yeah, alright, see you."

After making sure that there wasn't anyone out late, walking their dog or something the like, Nick slowly began to back out of the drive. Putting his truck into gear, he had only one thought - where the hell was he going to get something that they all could eat while still avoiding the "Christmas Shopping Traffic"?


Sergio limped along the sidewalk, stalking the pretty redhead that he'd seen in the photo since for now that was all he could do. The damned wolf had bitten clear down to the bone and even with his grimm healing, it was going to take him a couple of days, perhaps even a week, to heal fully. So until then, he did reconnaissance. It was boring and tedious but also necessary if he wished to keep breathing and so he bit down on his impatience and kept going.

As his target ducked into one of a few veterinary clinics, most likely her place of work, Sergio kept walking on. He'd been doing this long enough to know that if you didn't have a valid reason to continue following, you should move on. So that was what he did.

Besides, he thought as he fought down his desire to torment, torture, and tear apart. I have planning to do.

This one would be special. He couldn't do just anything with her. No. He wanted to leave a message for the baby-grimm; let him know precisely who it was that was coming after him and his friends.


By the time that Nick had returned from the food run it was well past the hour mark that he'd been given by Monroe. The Christmas shoppers were out in full force this year, thanks to the slight economy boost, and had evidently decided to take a dinner break at the same exact place that he'd chosen. Or so it had seemed but maybe that was simply because Nick had been in a hurry and hadn't called in the order first. Either way, he passed Monroe's old, broken-down, VW as he pulled up the drive.

Two car doors slamming answered his own and so he waited for the pair to join him up the small hill so they could all enter together. For once the house wasn't dark and uninviting, but that could have something to do with the fact that he hadn't turned the lights off before he'd left.

"Do you need some help?" Rosalee offered as they became a trio.

"Nah, I got it." Nick offered her a smile of thanks and then handed part of his bundle over to Monroe who simply rolled his eyes. He gave the fushcbau what was now a cheeky smile and then he went to the back door and let them all in. "So what did you want to talk about?" he asked after he'd closed and locked them in. "Or should we wait until there's food to talk?"

"Definitely food," Monroe answered as his stomach gave a loud rumble.

Rosalee gave Nick a look that was clearly saying she was trying not to laugh but Nick had no such scruples. He muted it down to a chuckle, though, saying, "I think that settles it," as he grabbed the bags from Monroe and placed them on the counter.

The smells of Indian filled the kitchen and it made Nick's stomach growl too. He couldn't say why, but this sounded good tonight and since it had the added benefit of being vegetarian (which Monroe would eat), Nick figured it was a good compromise. As Nick pulled out his Chickenless Tikka Masala bowl, his mouth actually watered.

"Mm," Roslaee voiced as she inhaled her Black Lentil Kofta bowl. She took the fork and knife package that Nick held out to her and then headed for the dining table. She dropped her stuff onto it and then came back in for the microbrew that Nick had also grabbed while he was out. Thanks to the weather turning, if possible, colder, the beers were cold and in no need of refrigeration. She grabbed three, one for each of them, out of the box and then placed the rest into the refrigerator. "Smells good," she added as she made her second trip to the dining room.

Monroe inhaled his own Chickpea Cutlet plate, his eyes closing in what appeared to be pure bliss and a low growl of pleasure coming from his chest. "It really does," he added, taking his own food to the table with Nick not far on his heels.

"Good," Nick responded, pleased that his choice was approved of and appreciated. These two, more Monroe than Rosalee but he doubted it would remain that way, had done so much for him that he felt providing them with a meal fell short off paying them back, but it was definitely a start. "Well," he said as he waved his plastic fork ceremoniously in the air, "let's eat."


"So, you're captain came to see us," Monroe began, feeling like he should get the conversation rolling.

For a moment, Nick stilled and then, like a spell had been broken, he continued chewing. Monroe shared a look with Rosalee, his meant to imply a strong question of 'why isn' he saying anything?!', and then refocused on his friend. Nick's eyes flit between him and Rosalee, his blue eyes searching for something that neither was willing to give unless they were physically asked.

After another moment's silence, Nick set his fork down and leaned back in his chair. His jaw remained locked, closed, but his expression was open. "What did he want?" he asked after another second's quiet. There was trepidation in his voice that made Monroe curious about what was going on between the two men. After all, it seemed that they were getting along so well there for a while.

"He wanted our help," Rosalee said, now setting her fork down and pushing her food aside. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table for a moment. After, apparently deciding that that wasn't comfortable, she leaned back and placed her hands in her lap. "He said that you were having trouble trusting him and he wanted our help in convincing you to."

"Honestly, I think you two just need to talk," Monroe butt in. In spite of the other two not wanting to eat, Monroe had no such scruples. So, he kept eating his until it was gone. In his opinion it was way too easy to make that happen but at the same time he was also sated and therefore didn't feel the need to eat more. He grabbed the beer bottle and took a swig, using it to wash down the food. "I mean, that's what it sounds like to me."

"Yeah, except we've been talking," Nick answered, sounding exasperated.

"And nothing's being resolved," Monroe said, finishing the sentence on a sigh.

"The trouble is, this isn't the kind of thing that can be handled with talk," Rosalee said. Once again, she'd leaned forward and now had one arm on the table, her elbow resting on it while she used her finger to point at the both of them. She then laid her arm flat and focused solely on Nick. "The problem that you're having is that you keep thinking about it. You're using your head and that's not where this thing resides. This took place in your heart." When Nick's brows furrowed, Rosalee held up a hand to forestall anything he was about to say. "I know you love Juliette," she said gently, "but I also know that you've been slowly pulling away from her with every single lie that you've told her."

"No I haven't," Nick denied, although he didn't sound convincing. His arms crossed over his chest, showing that he felt defensive with this conversation. Rosalee, Monroe saw, noticed it too but she continued.

"Yeah, you have. I know because I've done it too."

Okay, that was a surprise! Monroe's head snapped to his right to look at the fuchsbau, wondering when she had tried to date a kehrseite. Since they had only recently started to date they hadn't really gotten to the whole exes talk yet. He was intrigued, and slightly jealous. But only slightly.

"It was a long time," she dismissed, shaking her head to show that it wasn't that important. "The point is I've been there and I know what's it like. You've been slowly distancing yourself ever since you found out who you truly were. And even though you didn't know that your captain was a wesen until recently, your heart recognized it and began to bond itself to his." She paused, seemingly to let this all sink in but Monroe believed it was so that she could choose her next words carefully. "How long have you been having feelings for the captain?"

Nick's blue eyes focused on her with such intensity that Monroe had the brief urge to protect her. He knew Nick would never do anything to either one of them but for that moment, Monroe saw the Grimm and not Nick. It was a second before Nick relaxed, but he still looked defensive, and he sighed.

"A few months, I guess," he answered. Monroe saw his cheeks turn red and guessed that Nick felt ashamed for developing feelings for someone else while in a relationship with Juliette. It made sense but Monroe also knew that you couldn't fight the heart.

"So about the time that Juliette turned down your proposal?" Monroe guessed, thinking that it made sense. He felt like he was cheapening Nick's feelings for the captain suggesting that but it also made sense. After suffering a letdown like that, you usually start looking somewhere else. At least, a lot of people do.

But Nick shook his head no. "No, before that, but not long."

Monroe wanted to say something about Nick having feelings for someone else while also preparing to ask Juliette to marry him but he kept his mouth shut. There wasn't a point in mentioning it right now since that was neither here nor there. The point was that Nick had been distancing himself from Juliette and that he had been feeling something more for his boss than an employee long before this all happened.

"The point is," Rosalee said, bringing the conversation back to where it had started. "If your heart trusts Renard, why don't you?"

"Because my heart is reacting to things other than logic," Nick said. "While I know that I find him attractive, I also know that he's dangerous."

"You have no idea," Monroe scoffed. When Rosalee hit him on the arm, he said, "Ow! What? It's true."

"And it's probably not helping," Rosalee said.

"No, he's right," Nick said, now leaning forward a bit so that his forearms rested on the table. "And that's the problem. I really don't know what Sean is capable of. I don't really know anything about him, for that matter."

Nick sounded frustrated and Monroe inwardly winced because he was probably just going to make it worse. "So, what you're saying is, you want to date the captain before you jump into bed with him?"

"Well I wouldn't put it like that," Nick groused, though there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

"And that's what we told Renard," Rosalee said.

"And what did he have to say to that?" Now Nick was smirking. It usually infuriated Monroe when the grimm did that but now, he could join in on the humor. It had been quiet interesting to tell The Regnant of Portland that he had to try and date his mate. But still. It was true.

"Well, I'm not sure that he'll ever come to us for help again but, I think he listened," Rosalee said, now leaning back into her chair. She looked over to Monroe for confirmation, which he had no trouble in giving via a nod.

Nick nodded, showing that he had heard but he didn't say anything. Monroe understood. On this subject, there was nothing more to say. So, he started another one. "Oh, hey, how'd it got with Marcie?"

As though that were some sort of sign, the group began to disband from the table and took their dirty dishes into the kitchen. Monroe watched Nick closely, wanting to evaluate his friend's health for himself. He knew that he couldn't trust Nick to be honest with him about it. The man was stubborn when it came to his own health.

Nick's limp wasn't as heavy as it had been, he was glad to see, but it was still there (though Nick was obviously trying to hide it, the idiot). The grimm also seemed to be tense about something, like he was waiting for the other shoe to figuratively drop or something.

On their trip out of the kitchen and into the living room, Monroe took a second to look around the rooms. It took him a few seconds but he did finally notice what was different. There weren't any photos around. Normally Nick's house was filled with pictures strewn about in odd little places. But now, with the exception of the one of Nick and Hank, there were none. Had the grimm finally decided to move on from them or had there been another reason for him removing them?

"What happened to all the pictures?" he asked as he joined his friend and girlfriend (or at least he hoped she was his girlfriend. That's what he thought of her as at any rate) in the living room and sat down on the couch next to Rosalee.

"Uh, they're in the trash in the kitchen," Nick said, actually managing to sound off-hand about the fact that he'd just thrown memories from the past few years into the garbage. He leaned back into the armchair, making like he was about to cross one leg over the other but stopping with a wince of pain.

"Wow," Monroe said, a little awed by how well Nick seemed to be adjusting. God knows, it took him a lot longer to get over Angelina and they hadn't been nearly as steady as Nick and Juliette had been.

"Yeah," Nick said, obviously not wanting to go into more detail. "So, uh, Marcie," he said, referring to Monroe's earlier question. "She was, interesting."

"Did she woge for you?" Monroe asked, somewhat resigned about the fact. He was a little disappointed that he wasn't going to get to tell Nick about the doctor, that she had decided to do so herself. Since it was one of the main reasons that Nick talked to him (or so it felt at times), he felt like he was beginning to lose some purpose in his friend's eye.

"Yeah," Nick confirmed with a smile. "Yeah, she did do that." He paused, no doubt to gather his thoughts and then said, "But she did it to get me to trust her."

"I thought you already knew that," Rosalee said, sounding confused. After all, there was a certain level of trust needed between doctor and patient.

"No this was for something else." Monroe watched as Nick's hand rubbed his thigh but he wasn't sure why it was doing that. Was Nick hurting? Or was he nervous?

"She wanted to analyze some of my blood," Nick said after a time. "She thinks that there's more to my fast healing than Bud's miracle goo."

"That makes sense," Rosalee said, echoing Monroe's unspoken but simultaneous thought. "Grimms would have to heal fast in order to do what they do."

"Yeah, it'd be pretty hard to go around chopping people's heads off if they got pounded on by a wesen the night before." Okay, so he hadn't quite meant the statement to come out sounding quite as bitter as it had. But it did and he winced a bit as he watched Nick give the minutest flinch. "I didn't meant it that way."

"I know," Nick assured. "But you're right. We couldn't keep up with wesen if we didn't have a bit of wesen in us."

"Okay, that's totally not what I said," Monroe argued. For some reason he didn't like the idea that grimms were, at least in part, wesen. He much preferred them to be another breed entirely. Because if grimms were part wesen, then it made what they did to other wesen even more monstrous.

"But it makes sense, if you think about it," Rosalee agreed. "In order to keep up with us, grimms would have to be stronger, more agile, and hear and see better than most kehrseites. Which would mean that they are, in some form, part wesen."

"Which is why Marcie wants to analyze your blood," Monroe said, still not warming up to the idea and wanting to move on.

"She probably wants to see what genetic markers lie in it," Rosalee finished. It was a bit unnerving how excited she was by the prospect of it all. But, though she wasn't a physician, she was in the same line, if not as medically based, and so it did make some sense that she'd be intrigued.

"Did she clear you off of desk duty?" Monroe asked, his mind suddenly remembering something else.

"Yeah, but only barely. I'm on light duty."

Monroe smirked, knowing that his friend wasn't satisfied with that but also knowing that it was for the best.

"Does this mean that you'll be able to take down the murcielago?" he asked.

"Officially, I'm there to arrest a murderer," Nick corrected, "but yes. Hank and I are going to go back tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Monroe was confused. From the way Nick was talking while at The Trailer, it sounded like they'd be doing it tonight.

"Yeah, the day kind of got away from me," Nick said, clearing Monroe's confusion.

There was obviously another story in there somewhere, possibly two, but Monroe didn't have time to ferret them out. Before Nick had even finished his sentence, he was digging around in his pocket for his phone which, Monroe could hear, was buzzing.

"Burkhardt." There was silence in which Monroe couldn't hear what was being said and then Nick said, "Okay, I'll meet you there." 9

"What?" Monroe asked, sensing urgency in his friend.

"We've got to go," was all that he said but Monroe knew what had happened. The murcielago had attacked again.

TBC